


The Catacombs

by ETNMystic



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, mystic losing her shit, penelope being a bit of a bitch, so nothing out of the ordinary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/pseuds/ETNMystic
Summary: Well, I originally was gonna have this be a Phantom kind of thing, but then things changed.Also, spot my references.





	1. Chapter 1

_Drip._

_Drip._

Mystic shivered as she hurried along the dark walls of who-knows-where, feeling a bit out of shape and not surprising considering her wide-frame, she felt like a Lego figure with a babyface. Why would the Cursed God think someone like her was beautiful?

 _Why should I care?_ she exclaimed in her head.   
_It shouldn't matter what he thinks. I hate him!_

All of a sudden, she heard a squeak below her feet and she gasped as a mouse, or a rat she wasn't quite sure which, scurried past her feet, brushing the bottom of the black cloak that she wore. She nearly dropped her torch. The flames were the only light source she had, as well as heat. 

She didn't remember why she was there, or even know where she was. It was almost like she just ran from her bedroom door in a state of partial consciousness and into these catacombs. Not even a hypnotic trance, it was almost like her bedroom had dissolved behind her as she opened the door. 

"Psst!" a voice called out.

Her heart jumped as she heard the voice from a nearby barrel. Shining the light, she cautiously crept towards it and slowly reached out for the lid until suddenly the head of a woman popped out.

Mystic began to scream, but the woman covered her mouth with her black-gloved hands.

"Shh! We can't let him know you're here," she warned her. 

While she'd only taken a few dialect classes so far, Mystic could tell that this woman had a dialect that was Standard American, veering dangerously into high British. Shining the torch, she finally got a better look at the woman. The only way she could describe her was as having a startling resemblance to Kirumi Tojo, outfit and all.

"Who are you?" Mystic whispered as she gently removed the gloved hand from her mouth.

"My name is Penelope. Penelope Dowry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Hiding. I had to abandon Chala after those parasites were released. I was putting her and everyone else in danger. Plus if I'd become a psychotic serial hypnotist as the Cursed God wants me to be, that would really be a turn-off for potential bachelors. Though I suppose some may find it quite arousing."

"You said 'we can't let him know you're here.' Who's him?"

"The Cursed God."

"Then why the hell are you---?" Mystic whispered harshly.

"He's got his ruffians stationed up above. I was nearly snatched by Calvin when I spotted an opening in the streets and dove in here."

"Where exactly are we, geographically?"

"I believe we are below the Palais-Garnier, or at least below what's near it."

"Aren't you scared they'll find you?"

"Of course not. They're under his strict orders to keep out."

"Why?"

"I believe the Cursed God said something about it being a 'honeymoon suite.'"

Mystic shuddered at the mere mention before realizing an even more frightening possibility.

"You mean, he's gonna.......you know......?" she asked, afraid to say it.

There was some confusion on Penelope's face, but she soon put it together.

"Oh, no," Penelope assured her.  
"No, he won't. I overheard a meeting he had with Calvin; he said that it's your, and I quote, 'innocence and purity that has truly piqued interest.' So he'll likely enslave some of us as concubines, have one or more of us bear children. By the way, did you know that he's got this glass chamber next to the bed in this honeymoon suite of his? It's fit to your measurements and the side facing the bed can be opened at his command."

 _Of course he would have THAT,_ Mystic huffed and shivered.  
_Probably to pet me while I'm sleeping. Wait. How does she know that?_

"Penelope, did you SEE the honeymoon suite?"

"Yes, of course. Just a few moments ago actually, before you entered these catacombs."

"How did you not get caught?"

"He wasn't there."

"Then why did you tell me not to scream?"

"Just in case he was nearby. Plus screaming at sudden startling is strictly plebeian and, if you end up falling in love with this Cursed God, it would be unfitting of you to practice such a habit."

"Okay, whatever. Can you take me there? I think if we looked inside of this 'honeymoon suite,' we might be able to find some answers."

Penelope thought this over.

"I don't know," she replied.  
"What will you give me in return?"

"Return? Penelope, the fandom is at stake here! Why do you expect something in return?"

"Have you forgotten what I can do?" she replied firmly, holding up her hand, her fingers positioned ready for her to snap them.  
"If you refuse to FREELY give me something in return, I'll simply make you do it at MY will."

_Oh......right. Probably should've thought about that._

Mystic blushed in embarrassment (how could she have forgotten that?), making Penelope giggle.

"The Cursed God and I seem to agree on one thing; you are quite adorable."

"What could I possibly give you that you'd want?" Mystic argued as her cheeks flared red.  
"I'm a twenty year old college student, not the heir to an elite conglomerate."

"I never said that what I want is monetary, or even material," Penelope clarified.  
"Rather, what I want is something......melodic."

"Melodic? What do you mean?"

"Think about it, my dear," she told her.  
"I know you're fairly intelligent. What fits the conditions I mentioned?"

A split-second passed until she found the answer, but she was terrified to say it.

"I know you know it," Penelope smirked.  
"I shall explain; I wish to experiment with melodic mesmerism by recording one's voice and then manipulating certain frequencies to induce a trance. To do that, I'd need a voice that's already crystal-clear and melodic. That's where YOU come in."

"So basically, you want to take my voice and give it the quality of a siren?"

"You DO know your mythology after all."

"Why can't you just record your own voice?"

"Because while I can hold a tune, and if I may say so my voice IS rather pleasing to the ear, I'd prefer to leave that up to someone already training to perform in that line of work. My focus is on the mind. And anyway, it's not as though you have any real choice on the matter. I can simply entrance you to sing, perhaps even put you in a---"

"Don't say it, Dowry!" Mystic snapped.  
  
Penelope smirked innocently.

"What's the matter? I think you'd look quite cute in aaaaaaa-----" she teased her, drawing out the A.

"Don't do it, Dowry!"

".......Aaaaaaaaaa......"

"I'M WARNING YOU!"

"Okay, okay," she sighed as she stepped out of the barrel. 

Mystic huffed.

"I'm getting pretty sick of people saying they'd put me in a----"

"Birdcage," she blurted out.  
"Birdcage, birdcage, birdcage, birdcage, birdcage, bird---"

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, DOWRY!"

Penelope was taken aback by her scream.

"Please, um, what's that thing plebeians say? 'Calm your tits'? There's no need to resort to profanity. This isn't some quiet little mountain town in the middle of Colorado. But all expletives aside, will you sing willingly?"

"Will you take me to this 'honeymoon suite'?"

"Yes, right now."

"Then I will. Lead the way."

She handed the torch to Penelope who led her down the hallway.

"In all honesty, I think you WOULD look adorable in a bird---"

"Say that word again, and you're gonna WISH I was stuck in a trance!"

 


	2. Chapter 2

Following the lit torches down the corridor, Penelope and Mystic crept towards the damned "honeymoon suite." Mystic still shuddered to think how he had a glass case that fit to exactly her measurements right next to his bed. Then again it could've been hearsay, or Penelope could've just been trying to scare her. 

"How much further?" Mystic whispered.

"Patience, little one," Penelope condescended as she pat her head.  
"Not far now."

Mystic groaned frustrated as she brushed off her head. But finally they saw two golden-gilded wooden doors, propped open slightly, yet they made Mystic feel uneasy.

"Come along," Penelope told her.

"Uh," Mystic hesitated.  
"On second thought, I think we should find a way out. I have a feeling that something's amiss."

"Prithee, peace. I saw him leave myself."

The two of them crept inside to witness the sight. A lake stood nearby with a dock. Candles donned the place and on Mystic's right was a giant pipe organ. 

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" she asked.

"Positive."

"Where might we find the most information?"

"I assume the bedroom or his study. We'll see the bedroom first; I have a feeling you don't want to believe me about the glass case."

And so Penelope led her through a series of corridors to find another door propped open, which also made Mystic uneasy.

"I really feel like something's not right," she told Penelope.

"Of course, this whole place. I understand."

_No, you really don't!_

But Penelope was already creeping inside. Sighing, Mystic followed suit and was horrified to take in this particular sight. Everywhere she looked, pictures upon pictures of her hung on the walls, as well as a few on the ceiling, most of them framed in gold, white, or silver. Poems, also framed, were devoted to her, art of her,  And fearing the worst, Mystic was horrified to discover that Penelope hadn't been lying. Standing by the foot of the bed and looking to her left, Mystic saw a glass case propped against the wall with a door open. Inside were several blankets and pillows. Surrounding it was a pure white canopy veil. 

But the big kicker was across the bed at the other end of the large bedroom. A large framed picture of her surrounded by lit candles and flowers, as well as a small key. Reluctantly she picked it up and tried to find something that would open, but she didn't have to look very far. On the shrine's left was a large brown armoire with a lock. Placing the key inside and turning it, she heard a click and it opened to reveal something truly horrific.

Not only were there more pictures of her, but all of her favorite things as well. A blue rose, a small stuffed unicorn, chocolate, Spectrespecs, books, and more. But that wasn't the worst of it. She also found a lock of blonde hair, a vial of blood that looked like it had been stolen from a hospital, a few small teeth in a glass case, a prosthetic eye, an old toothbrush that was bent at the bristles, a used bandage, and a familiar hairbrush with blonde hair still tangled in it. And in the middle of it all was a strange glowing tiara and a leather-bound book that grabbed Penelope's interest. Picking it up, she placed it in her dress pocket.

"Is.......is all of this...?" she gagged, afraid and frankly disgusted by the sight.

"Yes," Penelope sighed.  
"All yours. Baby teeth, blood, hair, even your first prosthetic eye. Oh, and why are the bristles of that toothbrush so bent?"

"I have a habit of biting them when I brush, okay?" she snapped quietly.

Tears came to her eyes. If this were merely a story she was writing, she would probably make some snarky comment like 

_Talk about the Yandere of all_ _Yanderes, am I right?_

But it was all too real. And she was altogether frightened as hell.

"Well," Penelope sighed.  
"Shall we go see the study?"

"No," Mystic gasped terrified.  
"I've seen too much. I want to go home."

All of a sudden, they heard the clicking of footsteps. 

"It's him," Penelope whispered sharply.  
"We have to hide."

In a frenzy, Mystic quietly slammed the armoire shut and turned the key before placing it back on the shrine. Just before the footsteps entered, Mystic and Penelope dove under the bed.

The Cursed God in his human form almost glided maliciously inside. Sighing amorously he walked towards the shrine and knelt at it.

"It won't be long, my dearest little flower," he whispered lovingly as he stroked the picture.   
"Soon you and I shall be together for all of eternity; all of the fandom will be ours to command.....um."

He chuckled at his own joke before placing a kiss upon the picture's forehead, making Mystic nearly want to vomit. The Cursed God went to pick up the key to unlock his creepy closet, but stopped even before he touched it.

"It's warm," he remarked.  
"It should've been cold by now."

Suspicious he sniffed the key and then he licked it all around until his eyes lit up, and he smirked.

"She's here," he chuckled madly to himself.  
"My love has arrived at last."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, to quote somebody famous and important idk who, "I'm fucked."


	3. Chapter 3

Mystic held her breath as the footsteps began to click on the floor, her heart beating at a thousand miles an hour. Sensing her fear, Penelope gently grabbed her hand and rubbed it with her thumb softly. 

"My love," he called out.  
"I know you're here. You can't hide from me."

The feet faced towards the bed and her heart jumped in terror. Slowly the Cursed God crouched down and, just as Mystic feared, their eyes met. He smirked triumphantly.

"Welcome home, my beloved," he whispered gently.

Grabbing her other hand, he tried to pull her out from under the bed, but Penelope grasped her left hand tightly and pulled at her. Mystic felt as though she was being stretched in both directions. Luckily Penelope won out and the two darted for the door. 

With a snap of his fingers, the bedroom door slammed shut. Penelope tried opening it, but found that it was locked. Mystic trembled in fright, as the Cursed God slowly stepped towards the two of them. 

"I knew you'd find your way back to me eventually," he chuckled.  
"True love always does."

Reaching a hand out, he went for her hair, but Penelope stepped in between the two of them.

"I won't let you have her," she hissed firmly.

Angrily, he slowly stepped back. 

"Miss Dowry," he growled.  
"You've been a thorn in my side for too long."

"Not long enough, though," she retorted. 

As they were talking, Mystic took the clasp from her cloak, and went for the lock, shuffling it around as quietly as possible. 

"The Society isn't far behind. You won't be successful at breaking the barrier."

"Is that so?" he purred.

All of a sudden, he raised his staff and Penelope let out a squeak. Whirling around, Mystic looked down and discovered that, in place of Penelope, was a small, snow-white mouse.

"What's a little mouse like you going to do about it?" he chuckled as he picked her up.  
"Now, what to do with you? Perhaps I should keep you as a pet. Maybe brainwash you into being a spy. Or convert your bones and flesh into gears and steel. Or maybe I'll simply chop off your little head."

"No!" Mystic gasped as tears came to her eyes.  
"Please. Don't kill her."

He looked into Mystic's pleading eyes and chuckled.

"You are far too forgiving, my dearest. This one is a nuisance."

"Please, don't kill her. I'll do anything."

_WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SAY THAT, YOU DUMB BITCH?_

But it was too late. The Cursed God smirked.

"Anything, you say? Perhaps even agree to become my bride?"

Stomach turning, Mystic pursed her lips and shut her eyes, tears falling down her face when she felt his hand under her chin.

"Come now," he said gently.  
"Would it truly be so terrible to be my bride? To be with me for all eternity?"

_YES. YES IT WOULD._

"You're such a lovely girl. I would never let anyone harm you in any way. You'd be treated like the princess you are, not just by me, but by the rest of the fandom. I'll even let that little trio that you love so much come live here with you."

Hearing this, Mystic gulped.

"If....If I agree to.....marry you," she began trying to stay strong.  
"Do....do you promise......genuinely promise....that you'll keep Penelope alive? And.....and turn her back to human?"

He considered this for a few moments. 

"Anything for you, my innocent little flower. All you have to do is say you'll marry me and I will not harm a single hair on her little mousey head. I'll even give her a nice roomy cage to live in for the time-being. Then once the union is official, I shall turn her back into who she was before."

Mystic weighed out the consequences. If she said no, then Penelope would be killed. But if she said yes, who knew what would happen?

_I guess I've got no choice right now._

"Okay," she sighed reluctantly.  
"I'll become your bride."

Hearing this, the Cursed God's eyes lit up and a small tear rolled down his face.

"You don't know how long I've waited," he gasped happily.  
"To hear you say those words."

_It's those words that seal my fate for now._

With a snap of his fingers, he manifested a quite luxurious, golden mouse cage for Penelope. Opening the door, he gently pushed her inside and shut the door. 

"Now, you look quite tired, my sweet," he told her.  
"Perhaps you should rest."

He gestured towards the bed with the glass case and Mystic trembled. 

"Oh, don't worry," he assured her petting her head.  
"It's simply to make sure no one tries to steal you away from me. My treasure. My precious. MY PRECIOUS."

_Wait, I'm sorry. Am I marrying the Cursed God or Gollum?_

As she thought this, he gently nudged her towards the bed. All of a sudden, he gasped.

"I nearly forgot."

With a snap of his fingers, her clothes were replaced with a pure white nightgown and pure white ballet slippers. In her blonde hair was a thornless crown of white roses.

_Of course they're white. IT'S ALWAYS THE COLOR WHITE._

"There now," he sighed satisfied.  
"You look more like the ingenue I know you're meant to be."

He then gently nudged her closer until they were at the foot of the bed. 

"Ladies first."

Reluctantly, Mystic got up onto the bed and gasped when she felt the material. It was the softest thing she'd ever felt. 

"What the--?" she stumbled. 

"Do you like it?" he whispered gently.

Suddenly she saw something. A bit of light pink sticking out of the white of her section of the bed. Brushing aside the canopy, she gasped as she picked up a plush unicorn.

"S....Sparkles?" 

She examined the unicorn, which was white as snow.

"How?"

"I decided to clean her up for you. I know how much she means to you."

_Wow, that's.......really kind of him to do._

Laying down on the bed and getting under the covers, she didn't hear the crystal glass cover shut, trapping her inside, essentially, a glass coffin.

_Well, I guess this is a good metaphor for my freedom._

She tried to stifle a yawn, but sleep was overtaking her. Her eyes fluttering shut, she soon fell into Dreamland, with a sweet and innocent smile on her face. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I found a song that fits me and the fandom after this:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9dMjy4LCvc
> 
> But at least we're gonna see the MRS Trio in this.


	4. Chapter 4

After some time, Mystic awoke from her stupor. She looked up at the ceiling and saw a picture of herself painted as a princess on a cruise ship with the moonlight shining on her and dolphins jumping.

_Oh, right. I'm here. Because I fucked up._

Making sure her glasses were on, she turned to her left to see a woman dress in all black with black hair and black makeup, giving her a creepy smile.

"Hello, friend," she greeted her wiggling her eyebrows.

Screaming Mystic jumped, hitting her head against the glass. 

"Fuck!" she exclaimed as she rubbed her head.  
"Don't do that to me, Saf."

"Sorry, just wanted to give you a little greeting. I mean, we're going to be living together after all."

"I fucked up, I know!" Mystic groaned.

"No, you didn't," a gentle voice assured her.

Coming into view was Rosanna Pansino.

"You just wanted to save Penelope."

"There could've been another way to do that," Mystic sighed.  
"Maybe one that didn't involve me marrying him."

"I mean, you're not married yet," a third voice clarified as Matthew Patrick came into view.  
"You're just engaged to him right now."

"Whatever. Technicalities aside, I KNOW I fucked up. Hey, by the way, can you guys let me out of here?"

"Can't," Safiya shrugged.  
"Don't know how. Even if I did know, not sure I'd want to."

"Why?" Mystic exclaimed shocked.

"Cuz you're adorable."

"Eww, no. My face is trash," Mystic gagged, hiding her blushing cheeks.

"If you keep saying that, we're gonna keep you in there for longer," Ro told her.

"If anyone should be stared at cuz she's so cute, it's you," Mystic scoffed.

"Well, I'm not in there. You are."

"Yeah, don't remind me."

"And you're fucking adorable," Safiya added.

"No, I'm not. Just let me out of here. I want food."

"When we figure it out, we'll let you out once you admit that you're adorable."

Mystic shrugged.

"Guess I'll die."

"You're not going to die," Matt assured her.

"Really? Damn it," Mystic groaned apathetically.  
"I was really looking forward to the sweet release of death."

A moment of silence hung in the air.

"Well," Matt coughed.  
"That escalated quickly."

"Are you okay?" Safiya asked concerned.

Mystic gave her an incredulous look.

"Okay? Do I LOOK like I'm okay? Also, where's the Cursed God?"

"He said he was getting a few surprises ready for you now that you've agreed to marry him," Rosanna told her.

"I said that I would pretty much to buy me time."

"So, you DON'T love him?"

Mystic scoffed in disgust. 

"Of course I don't. Why would you even make such a suggestion?"  ~~(And cue all the groans of the disappointed CursedMystic shippers)~~

"Just out of curiosity," Matt piped up.  
"If you HAD to marry someone in the canon, who would you pick?"

She shrugged.

"I dunno. One of you three probably. I mean, we've got a Bat Queen, a Cinnamon Roll, and....well, I guess Matt's already married. Bat Queen's engaged, though. Cinnamon Roll has a boyfriend. Maybe Gabbie Hanna or Andrea Russett Idk. Really I don't think I'd mind marrying most of the guests. You think the Cursed God would let me have a few more guests over?"

"You're really opening a can of shipping worms here, you know?" Safiya cautioned. 

"As long as people aren't shipping me with the Cursed God, I am totally fine with opening that can of shipping worms."

"I mean, you already kinda ship yourself with Ro and Safiya," Matt pointed out.

Hearing this, Mystic blushed.

"I just really love them as people. I'm asexual."

Matt just stared at her in disbelief.

"Okay, fine," she groaned.  
"I'm also possibly biromantic. Like, I'm 95% sure I am. But can you blame me for falling for the sweetness of a Cinnamon Roll and the dark allure of the Bat Queen?"

Ro blushed at this.

"Aww," she exclaimed.  
"I mean, like I said, I don't mind shipping. It means people like our chemistry and energy together."

All of a sudden, the door opened and in came three more people. One with a key.

"Gabbie? Andrea? Liza?" Mystic gasped as the door shut

"Well, lookie here," Andrea Russett exclaimed.  
"I didn't know you were into this kind of thing, Mystic."

"It's not a kink!" she hissed through her teeth. 

"I mean, you have to admit," Gabbie added.  
"It does kinda look like something kinda-BDSM related."

"BDSM. I've heard that term," Ro told her.  
"But I don't know what it means."

Awkwardly the group looked at each other.

"Should we tell her?" Andrea asked.

Mystic shrugged.

"I mean, she was the one who reminded me of the definition of Rule 34."

All of a sudden, her eyes widened.

"Shit," she laughed awkwardly.  
"Does this mean that this fandom has---?"

"If it exists, it probably does," Gabbie interrupted. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Anyway, if you want out," Liza piped up.  
"I was given the key."

"Oh thank God!" Mystic sighed in relief as Liza approached her.

"Uh uh uh," Safiya said, stopping Liza in her tracks.  
"We're not letting you out until you admit that you're adorable."

"I'm hungry!" Mystic snapped.

"Dude," Gabbie exclaimed to Safiya.  
"Let her the fuck out."

"Also, I just realized no one has made any porn of you," Andrea pointed out.  
"You think they would by now."

"Why?" Mystic asked.

"Rules 42 and 43."

"I mean, I don't really fit Rule 43, but go off, I guess"

"Wait," Safiya piped up.  
"Andrea, how do you know no one's made porn of her?"

Hearing this, Andrea's eyes widened.

"Oh," she stumbled.  
"Um, I......uh.....I.....researched."

"Sure you did," Safiya replied.

"Wait," Mystic exclaimed.  
"What about Rule 34.2?"

"I dunno about that one," Andrea shrugged.  
"I only looked for the porn. For research!"

"Okay, can we stop talking about the rules of the internet?" Safiya asked.  
"Mystic, just admit that you're adorable."

"No. I'm trash."

"Wait, I think Penelope taught me a bit of hypnosis."

"Don't you fucking dare."

"Then admit that you're adorable."

"So you want me to lie?"

"But it's not a lie."

"But it is."

"But it's not."

"You know what? I'm just gonna let her out," Liza said as she placed the key in the lock and flipped open the cover.

Immediately Mystic rolled out of the glass case. She tried to escape the bed, but a hand reached around and pulled her back against the soft white pillows.

"Oh no you don't!" Safiya exclaimed as she hugged Mystic close.  
"You still haven't admitted that you're adorable."

"Okay fine," Mystic sighed as she turned to Ro.  
"You're adorable."

The two giggled at this.

"Very funny," Safiya chastised, rolling her eyes before turning to Andrea and Gabbie.  
"You two come and block her way."

"Why do you want her to admit it so badly?" Gabbie asked.

"She has a terrible habit of self-deprecation."

"Hey, if anyone's self-deprecating, it's Gabbie," Mystic argued.

"Hey!" Gabbie snapped.  
"That's.......actually, I can't totally argue with that."

"See?" Mystic asked.  
"Now let go of me."

"You're too adorable," Safiya shook her head.  
"And if you don't admit it, I'm gonna have Ro tickle you and be adorable until you do."

"She's always being adorable, though."

"I'm gonna have her be SUPER adorable."

"Still that already."

"The epitome of---"

"That as well."

"I'll have her cuddle you until you do."

"Saf," Ro piped up, putting her hands on her hips.  
"That'd just be an overload of adorable. I don't think any of us could handle that."

"Then maybe I'll also have Liza and Matpat cuddle with you."

"That's WAY too much cute," Gabbie cautioned her.  
"I would die of cute overload."

"Nah, you'd have a trash human in the mix, so I'd probably counteract it all," Mystic added.

"Is there a mirror anywhere?" Safiya asked.  
"Like a small handheld one?"

"I'll check," Matt volunteered.

"What are you doing?" Mystic wondered.

"We're gonna show you how adorable you are."

"Ew, no. My face is gonna break the mirror. That's seven years of bad luck."

Matt found a small handheld mirror. Safiya held it in front of her face and Mystic, in reaction, turned away.

"Ew. Oh my Gosh," she gagged.  
"I look like a troll."

All of a sudden, the door opened up and in stepped the Cursed God, dressed in fancy, yet casual, outdoor clothing.

"What's all this about?" he wondered.

"Yeah, um, your bride won't admit that she's adorable," Safiya told him.

"What?" he asked confused.  
"Why?"

"She thinks she's trash."

Mystic heard a pained gasp from the Cursed God. 

"Let me see her."

Gabbie and Andrea moved out of the way as Mystic trembled, her face still turned away. The Cursed God slowly reached out and gently turned her face towards him. She scrunched her eyes shut.

"Please," he told her kindly.  
"Open your eyes, my dear."

Cautiously, she did.

"You are NOT trash," he assured her.  
"You are worth more than all of the jewels in the history of the universe."

"I never said I was worthless, though I'd argue that I am. I said I look like a troll."

"You do NOT look like a troll," he told her firmly.  
"You have the face of an angel and the eyes of a baby doe. You are more beautiful than words can say."

_You're just saying that to get me to fall for you._

"You have a face that radiates sweet and pure innocence."

"Uh, no, that honor goes to Rosanna," Mystic retorted.

"Aww," Ro responded as she sat on the bed and hugged her.  
"You're the sweetest, but I would have to agree with the Cursed God on this. You have such a sweet and adorable face."

"See?" the Cursed God piped up.  
"The Cinnamon Roll thinks you're adorable, so it's now a fact. That's just how it is. I don't make the rules."

Hearing this Mystic pulled away and blushed a deep red as she giggled.

"Well, do you admit it now?" Safiya asked.

"No," Mystic replied.  
"But thanks for trying."

"We want to help you feel better about yourself," Liza told her. 

"Thanks."

She then turned towards the Cursed God.

"Why did you come here?"

"Oh, yes. I have a few surprises for you," he informed her. 

Snapping his fingers, the night gown and ballet shoes disappeared to be replaced with a flowing white summer dress and a pair of white gloves. 

"Can.....can my friends come with me?" she asked.

"I......I was actually hoping it'd be just you and I," he answered.

"Oh," she replied disappointedly.  
"I mean, okay."

"Just for this first one," he added quickly.  
"I wanted to be able to spend some quality time with you."

He held out his hand to her.

"Shall we go?"

Hesitantly, Mystic reached for his hand. Like a leaf, it settled into his and he gently took ahold of it as she got up from the bed.

"It won't be too long, my dear," he assured her softly to alleviate her anxiety.  
"Though once you see where this is, I believe you'll be quite disappointed by that fact."

Hitching up part of her dress, Mystic was gently led to the door by the Cursed God and out they went.


	5. Chapter 5

Mystic, now realizing it was just the two of them, properly, for the first time, began to feel anxious. As he led her through the hallways, she kept her head down.

"Are you alright?" he asked her gently with what sounded like genuine concern.

Mystic shrugged.

"Just.....anxious."

"You needn't be so around me, dearest," he assured her.  
"I promise that I shall not let any harm come to you from anyone. Including myself. Why hurt someone you love?"

After sometime they turned to face two stained-glass doors. With a wave of his other hand, the doors opened up to reveal a large and beautiful forest where a brook could also be heard skipping. Mystic's eye widened a bit.

"Do you like it?" he asked her.  
"I created it just for you."

"It's quite nice."

"Ah, but that's not even the best part, my love. There's more still to come."

Leading her further into the forest, Mystic felt the fresh, yet subtle, breeze brush against her skin. It wasn't quite sunny out, only slightly, but she didn't mind. All around her, small sparkling bugs kept flying around her and giggling.

_Wait. Those aren't bugs._

"Are....are they---?" she exclaimed.

"Faeries? Indeed. I know how much you love  _Fablehaven_  and faeries in general."

Fablehaven......

"That's the book my best friend loaned me, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely."

They went on a little further until the faeries pulled away a curtain of willow leaf branches to reveal a beautiful garden area with a swing hanging from a thick tree branch, the ropes decorated with flowers. Underneath the tree was a little picnic all set up. And as the two of them emerged, so did Various Forest Denizens; rabbits, squirrels, birds, deer, any forest animal you'd find in a Disney movie. Mystic's heart swelled with joy, especially as the animals approached her without hesitation. 

"I.....I...." she gasped.  
"I don't......What?"

"Ah," the Cursed God exclaimed.  
"Just as I suspected."

"What did you suspect?" Mystic wondered.

"These animals only approach those who are truly pure-hearted and well-intentioned."

"But.....but I'm neither of those things."

"Perhaps not to yourself," he told her.  
"But to many others, you're one of the kindest and sweetest people they've ever met. Yes, perhaps you've had hatred and anger in your heart, and you may still, but it's simply to protect yourself. You're afraid of being hurt again. And I know you do have envy, but I also know that it's reluctant envy. They realize this."

"It's still envy," Mystic sighed, thinking of her best friend.  
"She's just so sweet and beautiful and talented."

"And that means you're not?" the Cursed God exclaimed.  
"Of course not!"

"But I'm not her."

"So? What about roses and butterflies? Do you think of either one of them as ugly?"

Mystic shook her head, wondering where he was going with this.

"They're both very beautiful and wonderful, aren't they?"

She nodded.

"And yet, they're not the same, are they?"

Mystic shook her head again.

"Just because one thing is not like the other, that doesn't make the first thing ugly, nor vice-versa. Roses and butterflies are both absolutely beautiful, but they're two completely different things. Likewise, you're not your best friend, but that doesn't mean you're not sweet, not beautiful, and not talented. On the contrary, both of you are very sweet, beautiful, and talented. The only difference is that one of you is a rose and the other is a butterfly."

Mystic glanced down at the ground as she blushed heavily. He pushed her chin back up to look him right in the eyes.

"You are very beautiful, you know," he told her sincerely.  
"Inside and out."

She was taken aback by this. Wasn't he supposed to be evil? Why then was he being so kind and gentle to her? Did he truly love her as he said?

"This is what all of your friends have been telling you, you know? They see the beauty in you, just as you see their beauty in themselves, and I do as well, my sweet. You have such.....an ethereal kind of beauty. A rare kind of beauty."

Mystic pulled back slightly and glanced down at the ground shyly.

"I'm still.....unsure."

"I know you'll believe it someday," he assured her.  
"But for now, shall we have a picnic?"

Mystic nodded gently and they both sat down on the picnic blanket; the animals surrounded her, carrying the scent of flowers with them. He first pulled out a bowl of pomegranate seeds, attracting her attention. 

"Pomegranate seeds?"

"I know they're one of your favorites. Take as many as you wish."

She was tempted to, but in her current situation, she ended up getting a Hades and Persephone kind of vibe from it all. He then pulled out a bowl of berries; raspberries, blueberries, strawberries. As she ate them berry by berry, she began drifting off, taken in by the magic of this forest. Absentmindedly, closing her eyes, she began to hum a little tune, unaware that the Cursed God could hear. 

Once she was done, she opened her eyes to see him taken so fondly by something. 

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Oh, I am more than alright," he sighed lovingly.  
"You have the voice of an angel."

Mystic hid her face, feeling shy and embarrassed, now blaring the color of a ruby and feeling rather warm.

"I don't think I'd say that," she replied meekly.

"I certainly would," the Cursed God answered.  
"And I certainly do."

He reached out and gently brought her face up so that the two of them met eyes.

"You are everything I have dreamed of, and even more, in a bride. Innocent, humble, intelligent, adorable, imaginative, compassionate, sweet, talented, beautiful, with the voice of an angel."

By now, Mystic's cheeks were glowing red. Pulling away, she averted his gaze, causing him to sigh sadly and ruefully as her heart thumped rapidly. 

"I've upset you, haven't I?"

"No," she assured him softly.  
"I'm just......I've never been told that I was anyone that someone's dreamt of."

He reached out to try to comfort her.

"Don't," she squeaked.  
"Please. Not right now."

"I'm very sorry, my love."

"It's fine. I just......I need to have some time alone."

Reluctantly he nodded.

"As you wish."

With her face hidden as tears came to her eyes, Mystic ran out of the magical forest and back to her bedroom. Slamming and locking the door behind her, she fell to the floor of her bedroom and wept. 

"Mystic!" Rosanna and Safiya exclaimed as they ran towards her. 

Mystic didn't resist against them as they pulled her to her feet and led her to the bed. Ro sat down beside her and Mystic enveloped her in a tight hug as tears flowed from her eyes. Ro rubbed her back gently.

"Mystic, what happened?" Matt asked concerned. 

"What did that son of a bitch do to you?" Gabbie growled.

"Can I kill him?" Andrea hoped. 

"I.........I....." she wept attempting to get it out.  
"I think I.........I'm worried that I........I might be falling in love with him!"

 


	6. Chapter 6

"You what?" Gabbie exclaimed in disbelief.

"I don't know!" Mystic squeaked.  
"He just..........he said I'm everything he's been dreaming of. That's something no one's ever told me before."

"He's just trying to get you to fall for him, so that he can take over the universe."

"What are some of the things he mentioned in that regard?" Safiya asked.

"I think innocent was the first thing he mention."

"See?" Gabbie exclaimed.  
"Innocent, that's why he wants you. If you fall for him and become even more innocent, he'll have a better chance at gaining your trust and eventually breaking that barrier. We need to leave tonight."

"No!" Mystic gasped in horror.  
"If I leave, he'll kill Penelope."

"He can't kill her if we take her with us."

"Seriously, can I kill him?" Andrea wondered.

"I feel like that's a death sentence," Matt objected, shaking his head.

"But....he's being so kind to me," Mystic argued sadly.  
"What if he really DOES love me? What if he's really just misunderstood?"

"He's called the CURSED God," Safiya pointed out.  
"Not the Misunderstood God. Chances are he sees you only as an end to his means."

"Even if that's the case, it's gonna be too dangerous for us to take off, especially so suddenly. We need to lay low for now."

"She's right," Ro agreed.  
"It's too dangerous to leave right now. The best thing we can do is lay low. Eventually we can call in reinforcements. But right now, someone also could probably use a bit of a cuddle pile."

"Oh by the way," Liza piped up.  
"Out of us six, who do you think you'd marry?"

"What?" Mystic sniffled.

"While you were gone, we talked about who'd you want to marry out of the six of us," Andrea explained.  
"I personally think that you and I might look cute together. Matt thinks you'd choose Safiya or Ro. Liza thinks you'd choose either me or Gabbie. Saf and Ro think you'd marry everyone here. And Gabbie says she'd be fine with marrying you cuz you're not psycho like her other dates."

A few moments of silence passed as Mystic gave this some thought. 

"I dunno," Mystic shrugged.  
"Aren't most of you engaged, married, or dating someone?"

"Only half of us," Liza answered. 

"Right, right."

The rest of them climbed on the bed with Ro and Mystic to form a cuddle pile when suddenly the door opened. Mystic, worried that it was the Cursed God, stayed low.

"What are you guys doing here?" Gabbie asked.

"We came to get you," a new voice exclaims. 

Mystic, looking up, saw a group of about seven others; Tana, Eva, Calliope, Alison, Tyler, Justine, and Nikita.

"Mystic, what the hell were you thinking?" Nikita exclaimed, running towards her and embracing her.  
"You deserve better than him, honey."

"I didn't have a choice," she gasped as Nikita nearly knocked the wind out of her.   
"If I didn't say yes, he was gonna kill Penelope. And he'll still do it, if I try to escape."

"That's why we came here," Eva told her.  
"We came to get you all out safely."

Mystic shook her head. 

"It's too risky. WAY too risky."

"I might be able to undo the spell he put on Penelope," Calliope assured her.  
"And then if we make it out of the lair, we could teleport back safely."

"IF. If we make it," Mystic pointed out, heavily emphasizing the word "if."  
"We have no guarantees right now. It's best if we lie low."

* * *

And so they did; the others kept out of sight the next few days while the original six attempted to keep Mystic away from the Curse God at all costs. This was not easy, however, as he was trying to do whatever he could to get her alone with him, busying the others with things needed doing for the wedding, cooking dinner, anything to get her isolated. 

There were times when Mystic was left alone, but those were usually when everyone else was asleep. She'd use some of that time at night to explore more of his lair and find small secrets. The Cursed God would usually be asleep and Mystic had figured out how to undo her glass case from the inside, meaning freedom could be easy for her, but that would require either waking up the others and running the risk of him hearing or leaving them behind to endure his wrath, both rather terrible options to her.

One night, Mystic had found herself back in that picnic spot, staring up at the moonlight when she wondered.

_Is there something else beyond this?_

Curiously, she hopped off of the swing and decided to peek through the rest of the forest. It was much of the same stuff; trees, flowers, fairies, small animals. That is, until she passed a strange tree with purple rose petals for leaves. There she found a little cottage-esque building. Cautiously, she tested the door to find that it was open. Inside a fire was crackling. She peeked inside slowly to see a quaint living room, a couch facing the lit fireplace. To the left was a bookshelf, which didn't seem very out-of-the-ordinary, until she saw a dark crack behind it. 

Looking to make sure she was alone, she crept inside towards the bookcase and found that.....it was a door. A door that, she found as she looked through it, led down a dark corridor, lit only by torches. This intrigued her, and so she grabbed a torch from the walls, hitching up her dress, and wandering on through.

The walls were coal-dark and barren. She found herself going through a series of twists and turns before spotting a light at the end. A crackling light, and not simply one from her torch. She found an open holder when she got near the door. Cautiously she peeked inside and gasped at what she saw.

It was an elegant room full of things that looked familiar to her; pictures of her as a baby, as a little girl, as a teen, even now. And not just pictures; notebooks from school, ones that had gone missing ages before they even met. Drawings, books she’d lost, clothing that had disappeared, stuffed animals, everything.

Mystic was both awestruck and terrified. Clearly he’d been stalking her long before this Possession had begun. So then was it inevitable that she’d be married to him?

“I thought I kept this room locked,” a woman’s menacing voice purred as the door shut behind her violently.

Mystic whirled around to see a familiar woman with soft, but intimidating, red eyes, blocking her way out.

“P-Penelope?” she trembled.

The woman chuckled amused.

“How adorable,” she condescended.  
“You really think that wench could break that spell my ex-husband placed upon her?”

_Ex-husband?_

“What are you talking about?”

“The Cursed God, of course.”

She pulled out a small card.

“Lilith Divola, Penelope’s Alter Ego.”

“Alter Ego?” Mystic exclaimed as she stared at the blood-red card.  
“But how are you out here if you’re an alter ego?”

Lilith chuckled once again.

“When she was turned into the mouse she truly is, the Cursed God managed to set me free. For you see, my personality is much too overwhelming for a mere mouse. So I became my own entity.”

“Okay, but what is **this** room?” Mystic asked gesturing around her.

“Oh. This?” Lilith scoffed.  
“That, my dear, is twenty and a half years-worth of hard work. Tracking every memory, every moment, every second, every thought, every emotion of every day.”

“You…..you’ve been tracking me since I was born?”

“Of course,” she laughed villainously.  
“How else was I going to be able to find someone else to control?”

“Control?”

Lilith was advancing on her now. Mystic fell backwards into a comfortable chair where she was suddenly bound and restrained by chains.

“Exactly. Control.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lilith divulges some information of the past, as well as how Mystic MAY have been discovered.

_Since I was conceived, I knew that I wasn’t destined to rule, at least not publicly. For an alter ego isn’t a tangible entity of its own, merely a reflection of someone’s different nature. Pitiful Penelope had been the source of scorn for the Society. A rich girl trying to make a living herself seemed too ludicrous of a concept for those plebeian agents to handle. She was always taught to keep herself composed, so she put society over self-worth. From that anger, malice, villainy, vengeance, all of that emotion and desire for a sense of control, THAT was how I was conceived._

_Once I popped into the picture, I took control of her for a good while. I’ll simply say that the number of agents we have nowadays is comparatively smaller than what we used to have. I’m guessing that, if you’re as intelligent as he claims, you can puzzle out what she did. Poor thing. She doesn’t even remember what happened during that time. One moment she’d arrived to the headquarters, then the next thing she knew, she awoke what must’ve been several years later, making love to an entity comprised of darkness and despair, my husband, The Cursed God. By that time, she’d wrestled control of her body and her mind away from me. But I’d already seduced him, by pretending to be exactly what he sees in you. He was madly in love with who he thought she was and she was insanely disgusted by who he was._

_Once he figured out I’d tricked him, he tried to kill me off, but I managed to “persuade” him into a bargain; my servitude in exchange for my life. He agreed and we’ve been working together ever since. But I know he still pines for the act I put on for him for over half a decade. I mean, I had to pretend to love children, for God’s sake! Little simpleton children who laughed and knew only love. I had to pretend that I knew nothing of sex or carnal desire. Only pure "love," like a child. And that when he “took my virginity,” he’d scarred me, even though deep down, I ravished in the carnal desire. And it was not him who was in control, but I. Though I do wish I’d been paid for those five or so years. It’s been one of my most difficult acting jobs to date._

_But enough of that, who is this man anyway? Where does he even come from? I know those are questions you’ve wondered about. After all, if you’re as idealistic as he’s said you are, he couldn’t have possibly been born evil, right? You would be nearly correct. He never told me much of his past, not even of how he came to be, but he did tell me that he felt that he never found a place on the spectrum of morality, even as a child. The slightest influence could send him one way or the other._

_So now you; I suppose you’re wondering, my dear Mystic, how you fit into this puzzle. I bet you’re just wondering what I, Lilith Divola, know about you, isn’t that right? I bet it’s driving you mad to be kept in suspense. I know it is. I sense it deep in your eyes. You have a thirst for knowledge, one that’s unquenchable. I could tell you now, I could tell you everything you’d want to know, but I think I’d like to draw out this moment just a **bit** longer. I want to see you BEG with your eyes. Won’t you be a good girl and beg for me?_

_Anyhow, this began roughly 42 years ago; 1976, only a few years deep into our bargain. It was in that church, yes that chapel, the one that had been spared the fire of Paramount Ranch in Everlock. He had just taken the soul of a young father and his daughter. He’d given the father almost immense power, knowing that his daughter would eventually give way._

_We were still in our search for someone we could manipulate to destroy the barrier keeping our chaos from reality. So that’s when a young woman MAY have came by, one who, funnily enough, MAY have joined the Society just a couple years later. I think you call her by the name of a Muse._

_She MAY have been doing some digging in the future herself, in order to find a potential mystic to train in the future I believe, and MAY have found herself a nice little file on you. Matter of fact, she MAY have created it herself. But she only could know of things that would occur up to a quarter of a century later; everything else would be written as conjecture. She MAY have gathered, for us, information on you from 1998 to October of 2001._

_Once we saw that file, he MAY have fallen for you instantaneously, much like how he fell for the façade I had built for him. Much of the conjecture that had been gathered about your personality turned out to be truth. He MAY have marked that your young adult years would be prime time for us to pop in._

_That’s all I’ll give you for now, but know that destiny is inescapable and your union with my ex-husband is inevitable._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short.

Once Lilith had unveiled all of that information, Mystic began to feel quite afraid, confused, and a bit angry.

“Calliope would never help you,” she growled.  
“She’s on the side of the good.”

Lilith merely chuckled.

“You really believe that? Oh how adorable. You truly are as innocent and naïve as he says you are; you’re the real-life ingénue, indeed.”

“I. Am. Not. An. Ingénue.”

“Are you sure? It seems he’s made you an eternal one. All of your clothing is white, the color of innocence, purity, and virginity. You’ve never been kissed on the lips by anyone outside of your family. You have innocent, doe eyes. You didn’t even remember what Rule 34 was until Rosanna Pansino, of all people, reminded you.”

Mystic blushed upon hearing this and lowered her head, which made Lilith chuckle fondly.

“You really are a naïve soul. No wonder those people took advantage of you, poor thing.”

She strutted over and cupped Mystic’s face gently, pushing it up slowly until their eyes met.

“You’ve been hurt, I know,” she replied softly, but with an edge of condescension, as she caressed her cheeks slowly, causing Mystic to shiver.  
“You’re a fragile soul. But that’s why you’re the perfect fit for this. Believe me, it’s only for the best that we do this. We want to help you, dearest.”

“Help……me…….?” Mystic asked confused as she felt her mind begin to fog up.

Lilith nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact.

“Help you. I know to do that, you need to be protected.”

“Be…..protected…..”

“You’re too delicate and pure for the world up there.”

“Too……delicate…..and pure……”

“Yes. So I want you to think of me as sort of a motherly figure.”

“Motherly………figure…..”

“As a matter of fact, you can call me mother. In fact, I’d like you to.”

“Call you…….mother……..”

“Yes. And you know you can always come to mother if you ever feel scared or sad.”

“Always come…….to…..mother……”

“Good. You are such a sweet and innocent girl.”

“Sweet…..and…..innocent……”

As she said this, Lilith undid Mystic’s chains.

“Perfect. Now go to your bedroom and go straight to sleep. You will not remember meeting me, but you will know me when you see me. Come and see me again each night. You’ll forget meeting with me after each night, but you will always feel so safe around me, so loved, so protected.”

“Safe…..loved….protected.”

“Yes. Now off to bed, my dear, sweet, little flower.”

“Yes, mother,” Mystic sighed as she stood up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does talk about religion, so read at your own discretion

The next morning, Mystic woke up a bit dazed. All she could remember was walking into a strange room and then walking back out. It seemed like she was in there for a long time, though, and she didn’t know why. But there was a word she could faintly recall.

_Mother._

“Mother,” she said slowly aloud.

The word made her feel safe. But why? And who was Mother?

“What?” Andrea groaned as she woke up outside of the glass case.

“Huh?” Mystic asked.

“What did you say, Mystic?”

“Mother.”

“Why?”

She shrugged.

“I dunno. It’s just been in my head.”

“That’s a bit odd,” Safiya pondered.  
“Are you sure there was nothing that happened in between those two moments?”

Mystic gave this some thought.

“I…..I feel like something did, but……I can’t think of what it would be.”

“Maybe some food will help you think,” Gabbie suggested.

“You’re just hungry, aren’t you?” Andrea scoffed.

“No shit, Sherlock. It’s nearly 10 am. But it could also help her think.”

Just then the door opened, and in stepped the Cursed God, wearing a tuxedo.

“Oh, I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he replied.

“Not exactly,” Safiya told him as Liza helped Mystic out of her glass case.

“Do you have food?” Gabbie asked with a slight whining tone.  
“I’m hungry.”

“All in due time, Gabrielle,” he assured her.  
“But first, the bride gets to eat with me.”

Mystic blinked in shock.

“M…..me?” she stammered, causing him to chuckle in amusement.

“Of course, my dearest flower.”

“I’d really prefer to eat with my friends.”

“I understand, but we haven’t spent much time together. The wedding will be any day now, and I’d like to get to know you better.”

“You haven’t even decided on a day yet?” Liza exclaimed.

“I’m waiting for the perfect one, Elizabeth,” he told her.

With a snap of his fingers, Mystic’s clothing changed into another white dress, this one with a blue ribbon in the middle, tied in a bow in the back, along with white gloves.

“Please,” he asked her hopefully.  
“I promise it won’t be terrible.”

Mystic hesitantly stood up and walked over. He held out his arm and she took it. Leading her out the door, he took her through several long corridors before arriving at a doorway. Opening it she found an elegant dining room with a table full of foods; steaming pancakes, sausages, bacon, eggs and egg dishes of all kinds, hashbrowns, breakfast potatoes, crepes, waffles, various kinds of toast, bagels, English puddings, fresh fruit of all sorts, fresh fruit juices of all varieties, a smoothie machine with multiple chambers and taps for dispensing into cups, teas of all kinds, coffee, syrups of all flavors, margarine, whipped cream, powdered sugar, chocolate syrup, ice cream, warm and cold chocolate chip cookie dough, various breakfast cereals, both hot and cold, in short it was a table dressed to the nines, food-wise.

There were even a few dishes that Mystic wouldn’t usually consider breakfast foods, including one of her favorites.

“Tater tot hot dish?” she gasped.

“Do you like it?” he asked kindly.

“I love tater tot hot dish. I just…..I would never have expected anyone would consider it a breakfast food.”

“Well, I know you sometimes like to eat non-breakfast foods for breakfast. But first, please have a seat.”

“But…..my food,” Mystic stammered.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he chuckled.  
“You’ll get precisely what you wish for. It’s all Gluten and Casein Free, by the way. I know you have a difficult time handling those sometimes.”

He escorted her over to a comfortable, red velveteen throne of sorts the frame comprised of shining, shimmering gold. Sitting down upon it, Mystic felt rather relaxed.

“Would you like a smoothie?”

Mystic nodded.

“Can it be---?”

“No need to tell me, my love,” he chuckled.  
“I know exactly what you want.”

And out of nowhere a cup full of a light berry-blue smoothie appeared in front of her. Hesitantly, she picked it up and gave it a taste. The second the concoction touched her taste buds, her eye lit up.

“This…..this tastes……familiar, but sweeter.”

She could taste a variety of berries and she knew right then what this was.

“Berry Blendz? Love Potion Number 9?”

The Cursed God nodded with a smile.

“With only the finest and sweetest of fruits for you, my sweet.”

Mystic blushed a little. She surprisingly felt a bit more comfortable around him. Then again, food.

He sat down beside her as she sat down her smoothie before clasping her hands together and muttering under her breath.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Praying,” she replied.

“Praying to whom?”

“Christ, the son of God.”

“I have a son?”

“No, the son of the Christian God.”

“I didn’t know you were religious,” he inquired with genuine curiosity.

“Not religious,” she replied as she made the cross points to finish the prayer.  
“Theistic. Agnostic Christian Theist, to be precise.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know for sure if there is a God, but I believe in the Lord and the blood He shed on the cross to save us from sin and Hell.”

“Do you think that……those who are LGBTQ+ are……doomed to----?” he asked hesitantly.

“Huh? What? Oh no!” she gasped.  
“Why? Are you----?”

“No! Not at all,” he replied blushing.  
“At least, I don’t think I am. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with---“

“I understand,” Mystic assured him.  
“No, I don’t believe that those who are LGBTQ+ are condemned to Hell, nor do I believe they’re abominations. I mean, I’m in Joey Graceffa’s fandom, at least I think it’s his. Anyway, no, I think God created them just as He created those who are cis and hetero, meaning they have just as much of a chance of going to Heaven as anyone else, and they’re just as deserving of love for who they are. Besides, I’m asexual and biromantic, though I’m still a little unsure about the latter of those two. I could be panromantic, but I’m pretty sure I’ve had romantic crushes on girls before as well as guys.”

“You said you don’t know, but believe in Christ?”

“Belief and knowledge are two different things. Anyway I was originally raised Roman Catholic, but we stopped going to church after Communion.”

“How come?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she shrugged.  
“Something about the priest yelling at the parents for not making the kids try the wine, I think.”

“Why is that so important?”

“Transubstantiation. Catholics believe the bread and wine given as Communion are literal, not symbolic. In this case, they believe the bread is actually the body of Christ and the wine His blood. To me that doesn’t really make sense.”

“Neither does it to I. Why would I want anyone to eat or drink me?”

Mystic laughed gently at this, making the Cursed God smile.

“You have a very beautiful laugh,” he complimented.

She blushed again, turning away.

“Why are you so bashful, dearest?” he asked.

After giving this some thought, she shrugged.

“I dunno,” she replied.  
“I guess I was…..kind of…….trained out of self-esteem a bit by those social skills classes, so compliments kinda scare or embarrass me sometimes, I suppose.”

“Well, perhaps someday, you’ll believe you’re just as wonderful as I see you to be.”

She smiled at this, as her heart thumped wildly on the inside. Part of it was from anxiety, but another part was coming from somewhere else. Love.

And that was what gave her even more anxiety.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is about to get out of control REALLY quickly.

As the nights passed on, Mystic kept visiting and establishing a deeper connection with “her mother.” She began to believe it more deeply, and a part of that childlike trust she once had begun to resurface each night, little by little.

“Mother?” she asked her sweetly one night as they sat by each other watching the fireplace crackle.  
“My friends tell me that it’s suspicious that the word sticks in my head whenever I wake up.”

“What word, my dearest?”

“Mother.”

Lilith chuckled as she pulled Mystic close.

“They just don’t understand our relationship, darling.”

“Will they?”

“Perhaps someday.”

They sat in silence for a few moments more until Mystic found herself feeling sleepy.

“Maybe I can bring them to meet you?”

“No, not yet,” Lilith replied.  
“Not quite yet. Perhaps eventually they’ll be more……accepting.”

Soon Mystic dozed off.

* * *

 

The next morning, she awoke in that room alone, dazed and confused.

“What the hell is going on?” she groaned.  
“Where am I?”

Stumbling she left the cottage and went out into the garden, only to find.....

“It’s still nighttime?”

All of a sudden, she heard a cacophony of screams. Whirling around she saw, to her horror, the other writers, the guests, Joey, the Society, fleeing in terror, only to fall to a fishhook, a gun, a dagger, what have you. The Cursed God, in his entity form, merely stood on and watched with a woman at his side dressed in white.

“Stop this!” Mystic screamed as she ran to the scene.

A loud scream came from her right. She saw Andrea Russett, pinned to the ground, a dagger raised above her forehead, courtesy of Calvin. He brought it down on her; blood spurted out as he pulled out the dagger; the color drained from her face. Her spirit emerged from her body and into the smoke of the Cursed God.

To her left, Willie held Safiya down while another clown pushed down on her neck.

“Get away from her!”

But it was too late. Safiya choked as her neckbones cracked, peeking through the skin, as blood gushed from her wounds. Her spirit, too, was consumed by the cloud.

But the worst was still yet to come. A loud cry directly in front of her; there was Rosanna being held down by the Possessed Girl with Matt being held back by two clowns, his eyes held wide open and his head forced in her direction, as the Possessed Girl dragged a blade of pure glass across Ro’s arms before drawing her blood and placing the blade in the ground to make the rest of a pentagram. Blood drained from her as the Possessed Girl began to utter something in Latin. A dark shadow flew from her and into Ro.

At that moment, Mystic could see Ro’s eyes turn pure black. Snatching the glass from the Possessed Girl, she saw Mystic and cried out in a demonic chorus

“Mitte tibi simplicitas ilia ad inferos! Cur mater est malitiae confidis?”

Following that she took the glass to her neck and slowly dragged it across her neck without breaking eye contact. Once she was done, she flung the glass blade, stabbing Matt right in the heart. He let out a choked gasp as it pierced his skin and inside him. The clowns let him drop. Falling on his front, he hit the ground, driving the glass further into his skin and twitching before dropping lifelessly. Both of their spirits were consumed by the smoke.

“Who is responsible for this?” Mystic gasped in horror as she fell to her knees.

“As if you are THAT naïve,” a villainous voice scoffed.

Whirling around, Mystic’s eye widened to see the woman who was standing by the Cursed God was……….

“You……you’re not……” she stammered.  
“NO! I refuse to believe it!”

“Yes, Mystic,” she smirked as her dark red eyes pierced Mystic’s soul.  
“It was you.”

Mystic glared angrily at her darkest reflection.

“No!” she screamed infuriated.  
“You’re not me! You’re not real.”

“Tua culpa!” Dark Mystic hissed, spitting blood in her face.

“It’s not my fault!”

“Isn’t it?” Dark asked angrily.  
“Who is needed alive to blend their world and ours?”

Mystic couldn’t process this. As more agents, guests, writers, as they all dropped dead-their spirits being absorbed by the smoke-Dark took ahold of Mystic’s neck and pushed down on it.

“Pity we were so naïve. Tua culpa.”

“It’s not my fault,” she choked as her senses began to die.  
“It’s not………”

Those words _Tua culpa_ kept echoing in her mind, until her life was crushed from her, and silence replaced the husk of her soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that her question “Who is needed alive to blend their world and ours?” can be taken in two ways. 
> 
> Simply, which world does she mean when she says "their world" and when she says "ours"?


	11. Chapter 11

_Mystic?_

Life began to flow back into her as her vision regained. She saw a flash of black hair in her face as details became clearer in her vision.

“Mystic?” Safiya called out again.

“What….what happened?” Mystic groaned as she tried to sit up only to have Ro push her back down gently.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they heard her voice.

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Nikita exclaimed.

“We found you in that forest room,” Tana explained worried.  
“You had your hands on your neck and you were screaming something in a different language. But your eyes were still open. Then you, like, hit the ground and stopped moving.”

“We thought you were dead,” Eva cried.

Mystic still felt hazy, but even in that state, she could tell that they might not believe her. How the hell were they supposed to believe that she had nearly been choked to death by a darker version of herself?

“So tell us,” Nikita urged her.  
“What the hell happened?”

“You won’t believe me,” she mumbled.

All of a sudden, the door burst open and in stepped the Cursed God with a panicked look on his face. Not even bothering to address the seven that weren’t there that morning after Mystic agreed to marry him, he trembled as he pushed his way to the bed.

“Let me through,” he panicked.  
“Let me through! Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Safiya told him.

Locking eyes with her, he gently tried to grab her hand, but she wouldn’t grab on.

“She’s probably still weak. She just woke up.”

“My love,” he gasped, not bothering to address Safiya.  
“I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”

While Mystic did feel weak, that wasn’t why she wouldn’t grab onto his hand. She wasn’t grabbing onto his hand because of that vision. She saw her standing by him, the souls of her friends being sucked into his smoky vacuum of terror. Was he trying to corrupt her? What did Rosanna say to her in that dream just before she slit her throat? So many questions boggled her mind, questions she wasn’t sure she would get the answers to.

“Please,” he cried desperately.  
“Speak to me, my sweet ingénue.”

“Dude, Safiya literally just told you that she’s fine,” Nikita groaned in frustration.  
“Calm the hell down.”

Mystic could barely keep her eyes open.

“I……..I………” she breathed weakly.

Hearing this, he tried to grab ahold of her hand again, but she whimpered in fear which made a tear fall down his face.

“You are frightened of me again,” he sighed sadly.  
“I wish you weren’t. I have told you. I shall not harm you.”

Mystic gave him a pleading look, hoping to send him the message. Thankfully he seemed to get it.

“Your friends will also be unharmed,” he promised gently.  
“But I would like to just spend a little time with you alone.”

Shrugging, Safiya and the others began to leave, but Mystic cried out in fright. Finally she simply broke out weeping. Rosanna couldn’t bear to see Mystic in pain. She climbed up on the bed and gently grabbed her hand, rubbing it softly. In response, Mystic reached out for Ro with her other hand, making a grabbing gesture, like a child reaching out for their mother, pleading with her doe-like eyes. And that was how she felt; she felt so weak and helpless. Ro pulled her in closer and enveloped her in a hug, rubbing her back softly.

The Cursed God, meanwhile, looked on the sight with mixed feelings of confusion, envy, desperation, heartbreak, sadness, and anger. Why didn’t Mystic respond that way to him? How he wanted so terribly to be the one she turned to in times of distress! He wanted someone he could love, hold, cherish, to assure that he would protect her. Mystic, now that she had agreed to be his bride, should’ve become that for him. They had so much in common; they were different, isolated, desperate for love, outcasts of society. He thought she would be that purity, innocence, kindness, gentleness, that delicate nature, one that would balance out his cynicism, his villainy, his darkness, his hopelessness. Even now as he saw Ro calming her down, he still felt she could be that for him. He debated sending her friends away, but he knew that would only make things worse. She would never speak to him.

The more Ro cuddled with Mystic, the calmer she became, even briefly forgetting that she was a prisoner here. By this time, Safiya had also joined in as well as Matt. Andrea felt a little jealous seeing Mystic cuddling up with them, wanting to cuddle with her herself.

“So,” she piped up.  
“Are you better?”

Mystic didn’t respond; she was too caught up in the cuddling. Then her eyes turned to the Cursed God.

“Hey, C Gawd,” she greeted him.  
“Wassup?”

He didn’t respond, still glaring at the wholesomeness on the bed. Sighing, Andrea grabbed him and Nikita’s arms and dragged them outside of the bedroom.

“I think he’s jealous,” Nikita told her.

“Well, he and I have that in common.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyway I feel like he needs some dating advice,” Andrea whispered.

“I do not!” he growled quietly through his teeth.  
“I have some friends who help me.”

“Let me guess,” Nikita added.  
“The three Weird Sisters and Hecate?”

Hearing this, he blushed and looked away.

“Nooooooooo,” he replied shamefully.

“That explains it,” Nikita sighed.  
“Hecate’s a little rusty on dating advice.”

“Wait. How do you know that?” Andrea asked surprised.

“Oh, she and I go WAY back. I call upon her A LOT. It’s what happens when you’re a beauty guru, you know? Sometimes you have to call upon the goddess of revenge to fuck a bitch up.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he groaned.  
“I’ve tried to give her the best of the best. I’ve complimented her. I’ve given her everything. Why won’t she love me?”

Andrea and Nikita looked at each other in disbelief and then back to him.

“I’m gonna be honest,” Nikita told him.  
“Holding her here against her will is not exactly the best way to say ‘I love you.’”

“But if I don’t, she’s going to make sure I never see her again.”

“Well, that’s the tea, honey. If you love her, let her the fuck go.”

“I DO love her, but I don’t want her to leave me.”

“If you’re really insistent on loving her, then maybe get to know her better.”

He gave this some thought.

“She did seem more at ease when we were just talking.”

“There we go,” Andrea said before turning to Nikita.  
“We should go see if she’s better.”

And they left, leaving the Cursed God lost in thought.


End file.
